


Runaway Shinobi

by TheBadFuture



Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Missing-Nin, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27512842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBadFuture/pseuds/TheBadFuture
Summary: After clan politics run afoul and a mission gone wrong, a genin and his sensei must flee their village. With their names in the Bingo Book and pursued by hunter-nin, the two reluctantly dive into the shinobi criminal underworld, learning that they must choose a path quickly if they are to survive. (eventual missing-nin OC, begins approximately 5 years before Team 7's graduation from the Academy).
Kudos: 1





	1. 0. prelude

**0\. prelude**

_Now / After_

Silence.

"Is... Is he dead?"

Smoke.

"Yeah. Looks like it."

In the background, embers slowly kindling into a forest fire.

"We... We just _killed_ a- _"_

"Hey. Chin up. This is it.

"We're missing-nin now."

_Then / Before_

The most tumultuous of times are often divided in two halves: a Before of gathering storms and temporary peace, and an After wrought with chaos brought about by a single earth-splitting shift. And it is so with a life as well.

The luckiest of human lives are uneventful — they begin and end in the Before Times, allowed the chance to live lazily and calmly. They know no Afters, or if they do, they are small ones. They watch the clouds and get to grow old. Little changes. The ground is stable beneath their feet. The sky does not fall. They know no shifts.

Shinobi, however, are not particularly lucky people.

Kazuhiko's best memories are all from Before: being bounced gently on his father's knee, who grinned widely with the kind of joy only well-meaning fools can have, his mother relaxed and pointing out at the vast sea of leaves that lay beyond the Kohaku clan's compound.

"Look, little bug," she had said, stretching out her arm towards the groves, "one day, it could all be yours." As if in response, the trees rustled in the wind, the leaves hissing in a whispering chorus: _one day, you will come to know us better._

However old he'd been, he couldn't really grasp what "all" really was. But he knew it was something that made Mama and Papa look at him with hope brimming at the edges of their eyes.

In the coming years, he got glimpses of things he hoped would be part of the "all" that Mama had mentioned: foraging for berries and mushrooms in the Kohaku Groves with cousin Azami and auntie Komori. Trying to climb up ancient trees and sliding back down the trunk once he'd lost his foothold. Playing leaf whistles with Mama and skipping flat stones across the creek with Papa and falling asleep under leaning pines in the afternoon shade. He wanted to keep all of those things and take them into the future with him.

One day, Kazuhiko sat down amidst the leaf litter and watched as old great-granny Chinatsu stood flicking her fingers and craning her wrists in a flurry of hand signs, pulling a goopy golden-orange water from a tree. It flowed slowly from a cut in the bark at first, and then rushed out once granny Chinatsu wove her fingers faster and faster.

"Do you know what this is called, young Kazuhiko?"

He shook his head and absent-mindedly pulled at the dirt and dead leaves in front of him, eyes mesmerized by whatever it was Granny was doing.

"This is amber," she said, now forming the golden goop into a wobbly ball in the air. "Well, really this is sap, but it can change into something much harder — that's amber." More flicks and weavings of granny Chinatsu's fingertips, and the strange liquid ball divided and solidified into hundreds of pointy golden stars that hovered in the air.

"Ninja Art: Amber Raining Shuriken!" The stars hurtled towards a nearby tree and plunged deep into the bark. Kazuhiko flinched at the thudding sound of so many flying stars.

"Only the Kohaku can do what I just showed you, young Kazuhiko — no other clan can knead sap and amber to their will. That is our kekkei genkai." Chinatsu smiled a close-lipped smile, and then flicked her wrist towards the target tree. The shuriken melted back into sap and crawled into the wounds they had carved in the bark, sealing them up. "One day, you will become a steward of the forest and her children, too. Just know that as much as we take from the groves, so too must we give back. That is nature's balance, and the foundation of our clan."

Kazuhiko could only look at the elderly woman with ever-widening eyes. "Chinatsu," his father interrupted, "he's a child. All that is going over his head." Leaves crunched under Papa's feet as he approached.

"Well _somebody_ has to start educating your poor child on clan philosophies eventually," great-granny Chinatsu grumbled, "or he's going to grow up without any idea of what our values _are_." Papa could only sigh as he led his son back to the compound before sunset slipped into dusk. Stumbling along, clutching onto Papa's fingers, Kazuhiko chanced one last curious look back over his shoulder at granny Chinatsu. She stood bathed in the last light of the late summer, half-scowling and half-smiling, another ball of sap flowing into her palm. He wanted to learn how to make golden stars, too.

When he was 8, - or at least, when he _thinks_ he was 8 - he started to grasp what Mama meant a little bit better. "Not very many clan members are sent to the Academy, little bug," she said, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt, "but the elders have decided that you get to go to the Hidden Leaf Village and study there. It's a very big honor."

"What's the Hidden Leaf Village?" He asked.

"It's another place like this one, but much bigger, far off in the east."

"Like where the sun rises?"

Mama's face melted into something warm and amused. "Yes, Kazuhiko, like where the sun rises."

"Do we live there too?"

"What do you mean, little bug?"

"Like, does the Leaf Village… belong to us? The way the groves do."

"No, not quite. They're our allies."

"Allies?"

"Like friends. We watch the west border — that means we keep a close eye on the edges of the land near where the sun sets. And we tell the Leaf... Interesting things about other villages that are nearby, like the Hidden Rain and the Hidden Grass. In return, the Leaf Village does… very nice things for everyone in the clan. As long as we keep watching for them. As much as we take from them, and them from us, so too must each of us give back. That is the balance that our clan depends on."

"Are you and Papa coming with me to the Leaf Village?"

Mama fell silent, as if a hushed cloud of soft darkness had draped itself around her. "No, little bug." She got up and rustled around in one of the drawers nearby, and returned with something bright in her hands. She crouched down in front of Kazuhiko again. "But I'll give you this — it's a pin of the symbol of our clan, that Papa and I made from amber. Anytime you miss us, just hold onto it, and know that it's from the same trees in our groves. In that way, we're always with you.

"And, if you study really hard at the Academy, and learn all about becoming a great shinobi, then you'll make the Hidden Leaf Village really happy." Mama pursed her lips, avoiding looking into Kazuhiko's eyes, and fixed the Kohaku pin to his shirt.

"And then they'll do something really nice for all of us!" Kazuhiko beamed. His mother mirrored his smile, but there was something false in, no, missing from her expression, like she knew something he didn't. Papa was better at hiding that, or maybe he just didn't know whatever it was that Mama did. Wordlessly, she pulled him into a fragile hug that felt like it lasted longer than the few seconds it did.

In a way, that was Kazuhiko's first After: seeing Mama and Papa wave goodbye with worried smiles and arms that swayed above their heads like frail branches rocked in the wind. _One day, you will come back here — don't forget about us_ , the trees in the Kohaku Groves seemed to whisper. Auntie Komori led him through the gates of the compound, across woods not too different from their own, past creeks like the one he used to skip rocks across with Papa, until they stood in front of the towering gates of the Leaf Village.

The Leaf Village was not like the compound — everything here was louder, busier, brighter, bigger. The streets in the market districts still bubbled with sound at night, dull conversation or a stray dog's howl echoing up through the alleys and into the window of the small apartment he shared with auntie Komori.

"Are there people with kekkei genkai here too?" Kazuhiko asked her one day.

"Some," she answered, "but be careful around them. Particularly the Hyūga. Try not to let any of them study your chakra network for too long, especially in your arms."

In the Academy, the metal shuriken and kunai they first made Kazuhiko use felt foreign and dead in his hands. With auntie Komori's help, he learned how to take the sap they pulled from trees and harden it into basic ninja tools. The strain always left his hands and arms throbbing with a sickening kind of pain that was somewhere between soreness and a cold burning. But gradually, his auntie coached him - mold it like this, focus more chakra there, guide it, don't force it - and the chakra control became more manageable until after months upon months of practice, he made his first golden star, almost like great-granny Chinatsu's. Kind of. Well, it was a little dull, and lumpy in some areas, but what shuriken didn't have lumps?

As it turned out, none. That were functionable, anyway — Kazuhiko could make (very questionable) shuriken one at a time, but they didn't travel very far (or at all, really) when he threw them. And he couldn't make them float and arc and rain the way he'd seen auntie Komori or great-granny Chinatsu make them. ("With time, nephew. A Kohaku's most important virtue is patience.") Lumpy or not, he liked these tools better. There was a part of them that felt _alive_ in his hands. The amber shuriken and kunai he made fit between his fingers like puzzle pieces.

When he graduated, and after his first few missions, he wrote a letter home to Mama and Papa about his new team. There was Kenji, the boy who always pulled at Kazuhiko's arm and dragged him into something after classes ended for the day: extra kunai training, roof hopping, wandering around the market districts, skipping stones across Leaf's rivers. And Hana, the girl with curious eyes and neatly braided chestnut hair, who always made it a point to sit in the front of class and furiously scribble notes into her journal whenever Jiro-sensei spoke.

And finally, he told them about Akatani-sensei — their jōnin leader who was known for 1) her mastery of Fire-style jutsu, 2) flicking her genin's foreheads when they drifted too far into their thoughts, 3) spoiling them anyways with dango or ramen nights at Ichiraku when she could, and 4) even when she'd used up most of her extra pay from missions, getting them little gifts instead: a bracelet, a book, a ring, a scroll, handfuls of sweets, pulling strings for an extra hour of jutsu training with an old jōnin friend.

One morning, after they'd pulled an all-nighter careening back to the Leaf Village in the dark, Kazuhiko's teacher tapped him on the shoulder once they'd shuffled past the gates. The mission had _started out_ as a simple C-rank. Then _that_ became a B-rank. And then, that B started looking an _awful lot_ like an A, so Akatani-sensei pulled the team back before their employer got the bright idea to ask them to fight the Sage himself for free. She pressed a scroll in his hands, and when he unfurled it, his eyes locked on to soft, elegant brushstrokes that spelled out _Basics of the Gale Palm_ in aging but still legible ink.

"What's wrong?" She asked. "You've been staring at that like it's a summons to Hokage Tower." Her student was still silent.

"… You do have a Wind affinity… right? I didn't mix that up? I swear I had it written down — Kenji - Water and Fire, Hana - Lightning, Kaz-"

"No, it's right! And… I'm sure this will be very useful! I know it will!" He interrupted. Akatani-sensei regarded him with confused but intrigued eyes.

"Uh, not that I'm ungrateful, because I'm not! I'm really very very grateful, sensei, but… Um, why do you do things like this for us? I mean, we're your genin and you're our jōnin leader, but you always go… Out of your way, if that makes sense? Or, at least it kinda feels like you do?" Akatani-sensei blinked dazedly at him before a tired but still warm smile spread across her face.

"Huh. It's not obvious?" Kazuhiko shook his head. "Mmm, well, there's no _one_ reason, you know? You're all my first time instructing, and I want to get it right — you're a good bunch, and I mean that. And I guess, full honesty, I also want the satisfaction of seeing you all curbstomp Hideki's team in the Chūnin Exams, too." Akatani-sensei said. One of the gate guards snickered.

"But mostly, if it's not too hard to believe, it's because I care about you all. A lot. The three of you are kind of like my kids."

For a moment, with the first golden threads of sunrise unspooling across the village, Kazuhiko allowed himself to smile and ignore auntie Komori's warnings about getting too close to other Leaf ninja.

It was a nice moment. Then Akatani-sensei flicked him in the temple. "But only kind of, got it?" Her genin nodded.

Then, she let out an exaggerated sigh and wobbled off. All of their legs felt like jelly after that mission. "Alright, I'm gonna go crash now. Holler if you need me. Or don't, actually — bother someone else. Don't wake me unless it's like, the next coming of a tailed beast."

That morning was a good After.

A bad After was when Kenji almost died in the aptly-named Forest of Death during their first Chūnin Exam.

He probably would have, if Hana and Kazuhiko hadn't forked over their Heaven scroll to a Hidden Valley medic-nin. If that giant bear's claw had sliced a little deeper. If they'd been just a few seconds slower.

That was enough of a scare for all three of them to sit out the next round of exams once six months had passed.

Kenji spent a lot more time with Kazuhiko after that, and eventually, began pulling Hana along too. One night, laid back on a rooftop, they cobbled together their best attempt at a firework jutsu — Hana and Kenji sent weak fizzles of lightning and embers into the air, Kazuhiko blew away the ashes with Gale Palms, and the three of them giggled as the sky danced with the light of quickly fading fireflies.

During their second try, Kazuhiko was only slightly more helpful than deadweight in the Demon Desert — he ran out of amber ninja tools on Day 2. _Where there are no trees, the Voice of the Forest cannot speak to you. Where trees do not belong, the Kohaku do not belong. Stay out of the Land of Wind, boy_ , granny Chinatsu had once chided.

Of course, it's not like any of them stood a particularly good chance against the Desert's creatures of nightmare: giant scorpions, giant ants, giant night moths, giant sand snakes, or strange (and, surprise! also giant) stalking genjutsu-cactus monsters.

Day 1, they clashed with a team from Waterfall until some hidden animal's armored tail coiled around the group-leader's ankle and sucked him (and his Earth scroll) below the sand. The two remaining Waterfall genin dug and dug, screaming, while Team Akatani stared frozen and unblinking into the deep sand crater. They were reminded again _that some genin do not return from these exams_.

Night 1, a giant moth would've succeeded in carrying off Hana if Kenji hadn't drenched its wings with Raging Waves — instead she escaped with two cracked ribs from the fall down and plunged a kunai into the insect's head ("It couldn't have been a scorpion? At least we could've cooked _that._ ")

Three hours later, Hana got her wish and Kazuhiko got a lengthy gash across his leg from the house-sized scorpion's bladed claws. But the meat (could they call it that?) was tasty enough when cooked. The stars shone even brighter in the desert, and Hana sent out a weak lightning firework that fizzed and popped above their heads as they bit into their scorpion kebabs. It wasn't a rooftop in the Leaf Village, but they were together. That was good enough, Kazuhiko thought.

Morning 2, they came across Hideki-sensei's team, but decided to call a truce. ("We want to trash you in the finals, with an audience, not out here.") That afternoon, one of the genjutsu-cactus monsters found Tetsuo, and they learned that 1) the cactus monster juice-water-blood was actually very sweet, and 2) sometimes, a shinobi can be lucky enough to survive hundreds of senbon thorns. After another day of relentless animal (and plant?) ambushes, the six of them spent the rest of the exam holed up in a cave with some Hidden Grass genin who were also unprepared for the Land of Wind's string of living horrors. ("Third time's the charm, right guys?")

It was after their second try that a man with a wooden cane and a thicket of bandages across his right arm began appearing at the edges of Kazuhiko's training sessions. That auntie Komori bristled in his presence like she'd been given a death sentence. That Akatani-sensei flinched inexplicably during their sparring matches, as if someone was watching them. He wondered if that man was a bad After for them.

On their third try, Kenji got promoted to chūnin, Hana got promoted to chūnin, and Kazuhiko got knocked out in the first round of the finals by a Hidden Grass taijutsu-expert who (surprise!) also got promoted to chūnin. Getting punched squarely in the face by Daichi in front of hundreds of people? That sucked. Having a broken nose also sucked. As did being the only one on the team who was still a genin.

Still, even that unfolded into good things and better memories: Hana kindly offering to heal his bruises, Kenji surprising him with what had to be _the softest_ fur blanket in all of the Land of Fire, Akatani-sensei shrugging nonchalantly at his loss and taking them all out to Ichiraku anyway.

There were more firework jutsu on moonless nights. More missions with happy endings. More of auntie Komori's okonomiyaki. More fish fries by the river and arm wrestling contests and friends and other things that all made missing the Kohaku Groves and his clan a little more bearable.

All of those were good things from Before.

There were not, Kazuhiko learned, very many good things from Before that he was allowed to keep with him After he became a missing-nin.


	2. 1. the almost-beginning

_Now / After_

"Sensei!"

Her ears were _ringing_. And muffled. And aching. Like an explosion had burst right next to her ears, and now she was underwater. Oh, and the water was also scalding.

"Sensei!" The voice got closer.

"Sensei, can you walk?" Kazuhiko pushed a Gale Palm against the ground and vaulted over a smoking barrier of collapsed trees - most of the surrounding woods hadn't survived Kemuri's exploding clones.

"Let me help you up." Suddenly, Kazuhiko was by her side. But there were three of him? Clones? No, because all three of him were speaking at the same time, like mirrored echoes of each other. She stared dazedly at all three (no, _four_ now?) genin before her until Kazuhiko #3 pulled at her arm.

That woke her up. There was just one Kazuhiko now.

"Ow! Ow ow ow-"

"Sorry!"

A sharply inhaled breath. "It's fine." She staggered to her feet. "I'll manage."

Akatani Kemuri grunted and fumbled through the pockets of her flak jacket - at least, the unsinged parts of it - until she found three food pills. Her bones would undoubtedly feel like they were throbbing later. But they needed to get out of Waterfall's lands. Fast.

"Alright," she finally huffed out, "how does a mad dash to the Grass country border sound?"

"How far away is that? Can we make it in one night?" Kazuhiko asked.

Akatani-sensei gave her worried almost-chūnin student a weathered look, then sighed and picked a dead leaf out of his hair.

"From here? Honestly? No idea. Let's run like hell and find out."

_Almost-Now / Right Before_

Kazuhiko decided that if he lasted to the end of the ceremony without dying of embarrassment, he was _so_ going to spend a good week, no, month actually, hiding under a rock. And then he'd find a way to instantaneously become a chūnin after emerging from said rock. And then, _maybe_ then, he would feel just slightly redeemed.

After a mission to the Land of Iron with Tetsuo, who'd also made chūnin (seeing one of Hideki-sensei's students get promoted before him? tormenting), Kazuhiko returned to the Leaf Village and learned that his clan had selected him as their next summoner. Auntie Komori was overjoyed, and surprised him with enough okonomiyaki to feed a small country (in fact, there was so much to eat that they invited Kenji and his bottomless stomach over to help out). Throughout dinner that night, Kazuhiko was dazed. Him. Summoner. Blood contract. Ancestral honor.

He'd thought cousin Azami, who'd disappeared within the Leaf into some secret training organization years ago, would be up next. Her chakra network was way stronger than his, she was less hesitant, admittedly smarter, and _wherever_ she was, she probably wasn't still a genin at 15. From what Kazuhiko remembered, she didn't have a Wind affinity, though - maybe that was why? No, because the first Kohaku summoner hadn't had a Wind affinity either. _So why me, then?_ _Why not Azami?_

Regardless, once Hana unconvincingly assured him for the umpteenth time that his nosed had healed _just fine_ ("As a medic-nin and as your friend, I'm telling you - you look... Great!"), Kenji packed him some food for the trip ("There's no such thing as a completely full stomach!"), and Akatani-sensei imparted a goodbye-flick to the forehead ("What're you coming to me for? I mean, goodbye and safe travels, I guess... But, Kazuhiko, really. You've got this. There's nothing else to be said. Go get 'em,") he left the Leaf Village with a frightful but slightly calmed heart.

Sprinting to the western border of the Land of Fire, and returning to the Kohaku compound for the first time in years, he saw that little had changed. The main courtyard where the summer harvest festival was held was still pathed with smooth grey cobblestones, a grand square ringed with banners and lanterns and colored flags wavering in the air. Fallen leaves lay strewn all over the compound. There were tables stacked high with berries, herbs, mushrooms, roasted squash, roasted small game and... was that _tree bark_? Okay, well, that was new. Bark (and just who was going to eat _that_? Not Kazuhiko) aside, people still milled about and gossiped and laughed and stared at all the different fruits and vegetables, and the trees in the groves (the groves! Kazuhiko had _missed_ the groves) called out to him once more. _Welcome back_ , they seemed to say in the cooling wind. _Welcome home_.

"15! Oh my! Around that age, you're very close to becoming a jōnin, aren't you?" Elder Sayuri, his doting great-aunt, was one of the first (and nosiest) to greet him. _Jōnin by 15? C'mon. Who pulls that off?_

"Err, actually, I'm... Still a genin." Kazuhiko admitted through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I see." Her face fell and her tone was deflated, almost pitying now.

"But there are lots of genin my age, you know?"

"I'm sure there are, dear." She rubbed his shoulder sympathetically and smiled knowingly, her eyes crinkling.

"It's, it's perfectly normal to be a genin at 15!" He announced just a bit too loudly. A few of his relatives turned their heads his way and he reddened.

"I believe you, Kazuhiko, I believe you. Don't worry, we all have different paths - you'll get there, my boy." It was then that Kazuhiko decided to just give in, and nodded.

Mama and Papa greeted him with a soft kiss on the cheek and a crushing bear-hug, respectively. Their little bug was back, and taller, and didn't he look like quite the catch with that Hidden Leaf headband on - the girls, or maybe boys, or even both, would have to watch out for this one! Kazuhiko blushed but eventually made a point to show Mama the Kohaku pin fastened onto the cloth just above his heart, tapping the amber jewelry with his fingers twice. He didn't think he was good with words, but he liked to think that the gesture said _I never stopped thinking of you two._

His encounter with great auntie Sayuri aside, all of that made for a good and warm Before. It was after he put on the ceremonial Kohaku robes and knelt in the middle of the square, in front of the summoning contract and the most _enormous_ porcupine (and if it weren't for the bears in the Forest of Death, he would've said most enormous _mammal_ ) he'd ever seen, that he began fervently wishing for a space-time jutsu that could make him disappear.

"We gather here today to celebrate not only the bounty of the season, but to celebrate the era of a new guardian. Nature has spoken through the Voice of the Forest, and given us the name of our next summoner: Kohaku Kazuhiko." Granny Chinatsu announced to the whole square. Kazuhiko's parents stood behind him on either side, the clan whole clan and other dignified visitors ringed around the square. In the silence between, a gust of air ruffled Kazuhiko's hair - he thought it was the wind but _there's no way the wind is that warm_ and realized it was a bored exhale from the mega-porcupine seated on the other side of the summoning contract.

Granny Chinatsu glanced at the other elders, who looked to the porcupine, who lazily nodded at Chinatsu, and the old clan matriarch shambled closer to the summoning beast. The massive porcupine sighed as Chinatsu broke the tip off one of its barbed quills, and then watched the old woman waddle over to Kazuhiko. He stared intently at the ground, studying every groove in the stonework, kneeling with hands palm-up and head bowed down.

"The Voice of the Forest has deemed you to be a Kohaku worthy enough of becoming a summoner. This is not bestowed lightly, or to be lightly accepted. Do you acknowledge this?"

Kazuhiko froze as he scrambled to remember all the lines of ceremonial script he'd rehearsed with auntie Komori in the days before they left. A painfully long silence extended, unbroken only by cleared throats and the rustling of leaves. Someone's feet shuffled against the ground. A baby cried.

"I… Uh… I, I, acknowledge it so, and recognize it not as a burden but an honor, offer myself as both a humble protector and a generous friend, and thank the Voice for… Her gift! Her gift. Um. May she... Reign until the leaves are as dust, and to dust return, or until another as wise as she… Emerges?" Kazuhiko didn't need the Byakugan to imagine exactly how his parents' faces must've looked as they stood behind him.

Another painfully long pause followed until granny Chinatsu sighed. "Are you sure about this one? He seems a little slow to me." She called behind her shoulder. If it was possible for Kazuhiko to redden even more, he would have.

"Chinatsu!" Elder Hiroshi hissed. The enormous porcupine beside the elders merely let loose another lumbering sigh, and sagely nodded its head.

"Hehehe!" Chinatsu cackled, "oh, I'm just _kidding_! Ah, well, repeat after me boy: I, Kohaku Kazuhiko, the 7th Porcupine Summoner."

"I, Kohaku Kazuhiko, the 7th Porcupine Summoner," he followed.

"Am hereby forsworn to be a steward of the forests, a guardian of my clan, and a comrade of the porcupines."

"Am hereby forsworn to be a steward of the forests, a guardian of my clan, and a comrade of the porcupines."

"And shall shelter all that the Voice commands me to, in all my days of life and undeath."

"And shall shelter all that the Voice commands me to, in all my days of life and undeath."

More silence. For a flickering instant, he cheated and snuck a look above him, catching a glimpse of 1) a porcupine quill-tip fragment that looked just as large (and sharp) as a kunai, and 2) granny Chinatsu's infamous scowl-grin. Wrinkles cascaded down her face in an untraceable maze of deep canyons and riverbeds, as if each mark of aging had been meticulously carved into her skin. He caught himself staring for too long, and Kazuhiko darted his eyes back down to the summoning contract, now acutely aware of the feeling of cold stones digging into his knees.

He flinched as she pressed the quill down and sliced a crescent-shaped cut across the palm of his left hand.

"Heh! That's barely a scratch. You should see what a proper Hair Needle senbon does. Now, hurry up!"

Gently but quickly, he dipped two fingers into the growing pool of blood in his hand, and, in smooth, easy strokes, signed his full name upon the contract. For a moment, nothing changed and the square was still. Then, in a burst of smoke, a regular-sized and less terrifying porcupine appeared in front of Kazuhiko. Cheers erupted, the big porcupine sighed once more, and he allowed himself to switch from being just mortified to being mortified and relieved. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse and enjoy the harvest festival.

"You think too much, great-grandson," Chinatsu stated, helping Kazuhiko up by his wrists and wrapping a bandage around his left palm. "Summoner to summoner, 4th to 7th: think less. Oh, don't look at me like that, and yes, you do have a _look_. Your eyes get all wide and huge - too huge, really. It's a little disturbing." Papa chuckled behind him. "Anyhow Kazuhiko, you should breathe. And celebrate. This is, by definition, a once in a generation event."

Chinatsu looked back at the little(r) porcupine that had been sitting patiently, and then smiled at Kazuhiko. "Ah, but look at me rambling! Go, talk!" Mama and Papa left him with short congratulations and promises to talk more later, and then melted into the crowd with Chinatsu.

The spiny mass of quills shuffled up to Kazuhiko as he crouched down to the ground so he could meet it at eye (or, close enough) level. "You! You're totally the new Kohaku summoner, aren't you? Well let me tell you pal, I am _so_ excited to start working together." The normal-sized porcupine chirped.

"Um, thanks, me too. I'm Kazuhiko." He offered his new (friend? comrade? teacher? pal?) a cordial smile.

"A great name, to be sure! And oh, I was so excited I forgot! Ibara, at your service!" Kazuhiko extended one finger, which Ibara graciously held between her front paws and shook reverently. She smiled - or at least, she did something with her front teeth that Kazuhiko thought was a porcupine's version of smile. Without warning, Ibara waddled behind Kazuhiko and then scampered up his back, finding a comfortable position clinging to his spine at the base of his neck. He barely held in a yelp.

"Wow, this is really happening! Say, I'm a summons! I bet we're gonna be just as big as Kohaku Kōkotsu and the Voice of the Forest. Hehe, watch out Kamizuru!" Kazuhiko had not put 'porcupine yelling, literally, in his ear' on his bingo card for this year, but here he stood (or hunched over, really).

"Um, would now be a good time to have a conversation about... Personal space?" He ventured uncertainly.

Elder Hiroshi, who had floated closer to Kazuhiko by now, cleared his throat. "It is customary for the new summoner to carry their first summon upon their back for the duration of the festival, as a visual representation of newfound unity with their summoning animal."

"But-" Kazuhiko protested.

"A new summoner graciously completes the aforementioned duty _without complaint_." His tone was like ice and just as clear.

Kazuhiko surrendered with drooping eyes and slouched forward to accommodate the new guest perched on his back. "So, uh, where to then Ibara?"

"Geez, I'm so worked up I'm completely blanking right now. Well, I really want to go foraging together in the Kohaku Groves, but that can wait unt— wait, do I smell strawberries? Ohoho, yeah I _totally_ smell strawberries! Have you ever had strawberries before, summoner? What am I saying, you've totally had them before. Oh boy, we just gotta go get a basketful of those ASAP, and then see what else is going on with the harvest festival, and then…"

It was going to be a long evening for Kazuhiko.

* * *

"So Ibara, what do you do? Back in the village of the porcupines, that is." Kazuhiko handed the porcupine, who was now perched haphazardly atop his head, another strawberry from the basket in front of them.

"Me? Well," she said between munches, "officially, I'm a wilderness survival expert, though I like to think of myself more as a cook - an aspiring chef, if you will. Oh, and of course I've got some very basic combat training too, in case you're ever in a pickle. If you want, we can start our summoner-summons bonding by sampling all the different kinds of edible tree bark in the area!"

Kazuhiko paled at the idea of spending _hours_ trying to crunch through a forest's worth of tree bark. "That sounds... Thrilling, but maybe we could finish up with the fruits first?"

"Did they tell you about my sweet tooth? Wait, don't tell me, you just kinda _knew,_ didn't you, summoner? Ooh, we're already in sync! Alright then, would you hand me that apple?"

The evening went on like that for a while — Ibara and Kazuhiko made small talk, and sometimes meaningful conversation, tried different fruits, with a flurry of clan members and outside dignitaries venturing forward to say congratulations. Kazuhiko was told that 1) the beavers of the Land of Rivers, and their summoner from Hidden Valley sent their regards, 2) tensions between Waterfall and Grass were apparently worsening, 3) he really ought to consider growing his hair out - you know, if he ever wanted the porcupines to teach him Needle Jizō, and 4) that maybe, he should consider trying some of the bark - it was surprisingly flavorful.

It wasn't such a bad rhythm. Eventually, he found enough of a lull in the quiet storm of visitors to escape to a table covered with scattered melons. Two jōnin from his clan were there too, each acknowledging him with a tired but dutiful nod, practically slumped over their plates. Hajime's eyes looked glazed over, but he swiveled his head enough to look directly at (or maybe, through? he looked _tired_ ) Kazuhiko and Ibara.

"Still a genin?" Kazuhiko nodded reluctantly in response. Hajime sighed, then tilted his head back down. "Honestly, enjoy it while it lasts," he added in a weathered voice, "because when you're a jōnin, the elders and the Leaf get to send you on fun little missions, like a rescue operation in the Hidden Rain." Hajime slid an amber knife slowly across his melon, handing a slice down to Ibara whenever she tugged at his pant leg.

"Hajime, it wasn't that bad." Fumiko said pointedly.

"No? Escaping by the skin of our teeth from a country barely recovering from total ruin and anarchy _wasn't that bad?_ "

"You're being dramatic. And, exaggeration and complaining set a bad example." Her tone was firmer but no less exhausted. Dark circles hung beneath both their eyes like swollen crescent moons.

"Hidden Mud would be a better name." Hajime grumbled, ignoring Fumiko's admonishing. He handed Ibara another slice of melon. "Because that's all there is. Mud. Hardly anything there even _worth_ having a civil war over - just miles of standing water and flooded plains and the _occasional_ forest. Hanzo's really let go of the reins, I guess. _If_ he's even around anymore.

"Shizumu's a cool city, though. Or at least what's left of it. " Hajime admitted.

"Is that so?" A deeper voice cut in.

Fumiko had noticed Elder Hiroshi approaching in a silent storm of white robes lined with orange and red. Hajime had not.

"Elder Hiroshi!" He bolted upright - very, very awake now. Hajime hastily wiped the melon juice off his chin, the older man's eyes cutting at him in a downward glare. "I was just, just telling your grandson about some of the smaller villages and their... Landmarks."

Hiroshi snorted. "So I heard from afar, in great detail." Fumiko suppressed a grin while Hajime bit at the inside of his cheek.

"Though I, and the rest of the Council too no doubt, would be fascinated to hear more of your evaluations of Rain country," he said, "the four of you are required elsewhere. We have a... _Particularly e_ _steemed_ guest arriving shortly." Hajime and Fumiko stiffened at Grandpa Hiroshi's words, who had placed a suspicious amount of emphasis onto two of them. Both jōnin shook off their exhaustion as best they could, each of them immediately flanking Kazuhiko and Grandpa Hiroshi's sides as they began to walk.

Like prisoners trying to uphold their dignity during a march to meet the executioner, Hiroshi and the two jōnin moved towards one of the compound's side gates with a rigid dutifulness, as Kazuhiko followed uneasily.

And as he followed, his thoughts spiraled.

_Why all the bells and whistles for just one guest? And why are they so on edge? Is it the Hokage? I mean, it's not like Lord 3rd would ever bother to visit a border clan... But then, who else qualifies as 'particularly esteemed'? And what if I put my foot in my mouth again, like during the ceremony? But this time, it has like, huge diplomatic consequences?_

A soft breeze whistled through the canopy of the trees outside the compound. The leaves murmured something softly.

 _Nope. No. I'm thinking too much. Like Granny Chinatsu said. I'm just gonna turn my thoughts off, they're like a faucet, a faucet of thought-water, that is, metaphorical water filled with thoughts, and I'm just switching it right off. Nice._ A brief moment of silence prevailed in Kazuhiko's mind. _B_ _ut then, if everything's fine, why are we-_

"Kazuhiko," Grandpa Hiroshi's voice interrupted.

"Listen, grandfather," Kazuhiko blurted out, "I just want to take the initiative to apologize for flubbing up so badly during the oath, because I've been thinking a lot about, um, diplomatic etiquette I guess, and I know how critical it is that the Forest Oath is recited verbatim, and I _do_ take this responsibility seriously, and... Grandfather?" Kazuhiko's caravan-wreck of excuses skidded to a halt when he saw his grandfather had shut his eyes and held up his hand in a short, swift gesture.

Hiroshi sighed in a rare instance of impatience. "The Forest Oath represents your understanding that the contract is one of mutual support, not bound service of one to the other. Although your recitation was... somewhat inelegant, the proper intention was there. That is of foremost importance." Kazuhiko nodded, feeling a little reassured.

"Also, you're slouching." Grandpa Hiroshi's voice immediately shifted back to its usual tone of casual disapproval. "Spine straight, shoulders back, and put the ceremony out of your mind for the immediate present. And Ibara, if you could situate yourself on his left shoulder - yes, there, thank you."

The four of them stood facing a long, tunneled archway of craning trees that presided over a stretch of dirt road, waiting, seemingly, for nothing.

Moments later, Kazuhiko saw a figure guarded by two masked ninja approaching in the distance.

It wasn't until he recognized him as the man who had occasionally watched him sparring against Akatani-sensei - the man with the thicket of bandages engulfing his right arm, one of his eyes hidden under a labyrinthian criss-cross of gauze, wooden cane clenched knuckle-white in his left palm - that he thought he understood Hajime and Fumiko's fear.

* * *

Hiroshi was a calm man. He was a stoic man. He was a man of tradition. He did _not_ panic when others did.

And when he heard that _he_ was minutes away from the compound - well, it had felt unreal. The implications of such a visit had not yet sunk in.

But seeing _him_ , however, _now_ , and _here_ of all places, in-person — that made him panic. But only internally. Hiroshi's face remained an indecipherable plain of rehearsed microexpressions.

"Lord Danzō," the words slid out of Hiroshi's mouth with a thin coolness and a slight bow, "you honor us with your visit, especially on the eve of the New Summons Ceremony." _Of course, he would rear his head once Kazuhiko had signed the contract._ His grandson bowed too, Ibara shifting to avoid poking anyone with her quills.

"Hiroshi." Danzō's simple greeting sounded at once withered yet crushing, like a thinning cloud made from lead. He turned to look directly at Kazuhiko. "This is your grandson, I presume."

"Indeed, he is. I was just telling young Kazuhiko how proud I was to see him take up the mantle of summoner. I pray I live long enough to see him honor the clan, as well as the Hidden Leaf Village." _You already took Azami. Keep your claws far away from my other grandchild, Danzō._

"How do you do, sir?" Kazuhiko asked. His grandson's voice cracked with just the slightest thread of what might've been fear, and had Hiroshi not spent decades controlling his reactions in situations just like this, he would have winced.

"Fine." Danzō said. "Congratulations on signing your contract — it is no small commitment. Perhaps we may speak more about such a responsibility later, individually."

"Thank you, sir. I would be honored to hear your counsel." Kazuhiko replied deferentially.

"Why don't you go show Ibara some of the pine bark tables? There's no need for me to trap you both here while Lord Danzō and I reminisce about old war stories." Hiroshi interjected. His grandson's face seemed to visibly pale yet flash with relief simultaneously, the porcupine on his shoulder smiling (well, Hiroshi had never seen a smile that looked like _that_ , but surely that must've been what the porcupine equivalent was?). The two shambled off to the other side of the square. Danzō watched them go coldly.

"Now, Lord Danzō," Hiroshi began, "why don't we speak inside?"

* * *

"To what do the Kohaku owe the pleasure?" Hiroshi asked, gesturing to pour some tea for Danzō. The older man merely waved his hand in refusal, so Kohaku Hiroshi instead stiffly sat down seiza in the living room, Fumiko and Danzō's two Foundation agents standing guard at the door to their right.

Danzō raised his one visible eyebrow and narrowed his eye, as if to ask _are you still playing dumb?_ "Hiroshi," he began, "this evening will be far more painless if we dispense with the formalities."

The Kohaku elder nodded. "Of course. Directly to business."

Danzō's voice was like an iceberg as he spoke - freezing, heavy, and imperceptibly more dangerous than it first seemed. "It is expected that all clans which possess hidden jutsu will periodically send a candidate to enter the Foundation. The Yamanaka, Uchiha, and Aburame have already made their selections. I would like for the Kohaku to do so as well."

Hiroshi wanted to bite through his tongue. Instead he maintained a polite grimace. "We are honored to have attracted your interest for a _second_ time, Lord Danzō, b-"

"Allow me to speak with the utmost clarity." Danzō said, cutting him off. "This is not a request."

Hiroshi remained silent. He nodded.

"While 15 is past the usual age for most such candidates, now that your grandson is the Kohaku clan's newest summoner, I'm certain that he'll be of great value to our ranks." Danzō continued.

Hiroshi conceded another polite nod. "I have no doubt that young Kazuhiko could make an adequate addition to the Foundation, Lord Danzō."

"Please Hiroshi, do not be modest. He is of your blood, after all. I am confident that _he will_ be an excellent addition."

Hiroshi froze, a thousand different calculations and paths forming and resolving behind his eyes. After a long stretch of silence, he melted out of his paralysis back into reality. "If you would allow it, Lord Danzō, we would appreciate some time to come to a decision. We want to be certain that the candidate we select is undoubtedly the best we have to offer the Foundation, and one agreed upon by a majority of the elders."

More silence. Tense.

"I expect your candidate by the end of the week."

* * *

Kazuhiko was doing his best to chew a sample of Ibara's 3rd favorite kind of bark, Hajime scanning the festival area around the three of them with a sense of muted horror, when Grandfather and the bandaged man with the creepy vibes emerged from the central house further up the square. Kazuhiko wasn't completely sure _how_ Danzō (that was his name, right?) managed to exude an aura of sheer dread. But he had, and to the point where even Ibara's constant cheer was a bit shaken after their brief meeting. Kazuhiko blinked, and Hiroshi went from being accompanied by Lord Danzō to walking alone - wherever he'd vanished to, he was no longer there.

"Grandfather? What was that about?" He asked when Hiroshi finally got closer. Hiroshi looked at him for a long, long, long minute, a muted flash of fear flickering in his eyes, before he said "nothing you need to concern yourself with for the immediate present."

Kazuhiko narrowed his eyes at his grandfather, who evasively shifted to focus on the porcupine.

"Now, Ibara, I hear that you are somewhat of a bark connoisseur?"

Kazuhiko's shoulders sagged. Ibara's eyes brightened.

And the evening, somehow, got longer.


End file.
